Bond Almand departed from Prudhoe Bay, Alaska, on Aug. 31, 2024, and rolled into Ushuaia, Argentina, today. He smashed the prior Pan American Highway record by 9 days. And, astonishingly, he chose to do it fully unsupported, solo, even though the gatekeepers to such records do not require this self-imposed limitation.

Almand’s Pan-American Highway Route

Almand’s route is one of the most arduous, geographically and environmentally varied, and potentially treacherous bicycle routes imaginable.

The Pan-American Highway was originally planned in 1923 as a single roadway connecting North and South America. In 1937, Argentina, Bolivia, Canada, Chile, Colombia, Costa Rica, El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, Mexico, Nicaragua, Panama, Peru, and the United States agreed to construct their sections in a timely manner. The highway through Mexico was the first Latin American section completed, completely self-financed. The U.S. assisted with many Central American sections.

The Pan-American Highway is nearly continuous, with a notable exception of the Darién Gap, a 60-mile section between Panama and Colombia that is notoriously dangerous and has been the scene of kidnapping, guerilla violence, smuggling, and drug trafficking.

It is also home to several Indigenous peoples who oppose construction and contains environmentally sensitive rainforest and marshlands. Most travelers circumvent the gap by boat or plane.

Almand’s chosen path took him through Alaska, Canada, Montana, Wyoming, Nebraska, Colorado, Texas, Mexico, Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, and Panama, where he hopped on a flight to Colombia. From there, he hugged the Pacific coast, traversing Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, and Chile, finally heading inland to end his months-long adventure in Argentina.

Almand pedaled a mind-boggling 13,595 miles and ascended 541,735 feet, making the Tour de France look like a flat sprint by comparison. The college junior amassed about 840 hours on the bike, averaging 179.5 miles per day and 16.2 miles per hour.

And If the Route Wasn’t Challenging Enough …

If the sheer mileage, vertical gain, and objective hazards like the Darién Gap weren’t enough, Almand overcame random and unfortunate challenges that would derail most.

Ran Into a Semi-Truck

In Mexico, on day 26, a 256-mile marathon, Almand avoided a certain fatal collision with a moving semi-truck by barrelling into a parked one at 25 mph. In an amazing stroke of fortune, he didn’t suffer any major injuries. He did, however, crack his front carbon rim. Undeniably shaken, he managed to ride into the next town, and when the adrenaline wore off, he was left exhausted and feeling ill.

The next day, Almand attempted to ride, physically beaten and mentally shaky. He self-described a panic attack after seeing the corpse of a man that a semi-truck had hit. The man had been walking on the exact same narrow strip of road Almand had been riding. Almand managed to get to the next town and get his damaged bike in for service.

“I was suffocated by my emotions, which was leading to a suffocating panic attack. I thought about all the people I miss. All the people I love. All the people I promised I would return home to. The cars continued to fly by me with inches to spare. At any second, I was prepared to be slammed into from behind,” recalled Almand in his daily online diary.

Almand only managed 30 miles this day, essentially a day off, and his blog entry describing the events is among the most harrowing of his comprehensive, day-to-day reporting.

Broken Frame

The most catastrophic of these obstacles was the worst mechanical that any cyclist fears. Almand broke his Time ADHX carbon fiber bicycle frame after hitting a pothole on day 35 in Nicaragua.

Almand states in his very comprehensive blog diary of his journey, “Clearly, disaster has struck. This is not a post I ever wanted to write. In terms of mechanical issues, this is the worst-case scenario. I have managed to crack my frame. The frame is almost unrideable. Although I rode 50 miles on it today after it cracked, riding in it was incredibly dangerous and only done as a last resort. I will need to find a new bike to ride.” This is challenging to do quickly in the U.S., let alone in a country like Nicaragua.

Incredibly, a bike mechanic in Managua sold Almand his personal Giant TCR frame. This amazing turnaround is even more remarkable because the mechanic rode the same-sized road bike. Almand spent the next day swapping all his parts over and continued his record attempt that evening.

These are only two of the extremely challenging circumstances that Almand overcame during his Pan-American Highway journey. Other obstacles included two additional collisions with vehicles, three cases of food poisoning, six tire punctures in a single day, and an absolutely crippling amount of consecutive days battling constant headwinds. And not least, Almand survived the mental challenges of cycling for over a month without human contact.

Additional Records Broken During Pan-American Highway Ride

Almand broke four other intermediate records on his run from Alaska to Argentina.

He established a new self-supported FKT from the U.S.-Canada border to the U.S.-Mexico border. Almand also broke the record for cycling from Prudhoe Bay, Alaska, to Panama City, Panama, and the record for cycling from Cartagena, Colombia, to Ushuaia, Argentina.

Almand also cracked 15 Strava KOMs.

The Bond Almand Difference

As a fervent follower of all things cycling, I found Almand’s effort and personality, as reflected in his daily blog posts, extremely refreshing. No, he’s not a sponsored professional; he’s a government and climate policy student. Yes, he was out to break a record, but after immersing myself for hours in his writing, I was struck by how pure this athlete and his feat are.

Successful ultra-endurance cyclists like Lachlan Morton, although interesting characters, come off as driven and one-dimensional in their pursuit of records. Social media and produced content have them head down, aero, boasting about the miles per day, wattages produced, and average speeds. And, rightfully so. These, after all, are world records in an extremely challenging field.

But Almand’s musings are so different. He figuratively “stopped to smell the roses” often, commenting on the beauty, ruggedness, and differences in landscapes, peoples, and cultures he experienced day to day. And he’s incredibly candid about his fears, anxieties, and other mental, physical, and emotional struggles he plowed through during his quest.

He describes negative events and feelings in detail but bookends these essays with the positive acts and internal dialogues he executed to move onward. His webpage is a treasure trove of true first-person adventure reporting and countless examples of true resilience.